


My Batgirl

by ArtsieTango



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Doctor Who, comic convention - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Geeks, Pining, Slow Burn, best friend’s to lovers, nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 07:05:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14612301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsieTango/pseuds/ArtsieTango
Summary: A short, semi slow burn romance between a nerdy guy named Oliver and an equally nerdy girl named Monica, and their mutual bonds with the fandom world.





	My Batgirl

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after my personal experience with meeting Matt Smith, so everything I wrote about Matt Smith is from my experience. I know this isnt neccesarily fanfiction, but since I mentioned multiple fandoms I thought it would do well here anyway. I hope you all enjoy!

“We’re here! Can’t you just feel the buzz of excitement in your skull? Don’t you feel at home? Don’t you feel the kinship with the people you barely know?” Monica asked, clapping her hands and barely keeping her own excitement under control. I just shook my head and laughed.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind endless waiting.”

“Ah yes, my dearest Oliver, but just like in purgatory, there is always bliss at the end of the wait.” She replied, flipping her curly hair as we stepped up to the ticket counter. She was dressed up in a leather jacket, a red tank top, ripped shorts, fishnet tights, and blue converse, making her look normal to the average Joe, but here, everyone here recognized her as a brunette Amy Pond. I honestly thought she looked really good like that, but I shook my head to shake the thought away. After all, we were just friends. To distract myself from that, I looked around me at the geeks and nerds of all fandoms that were still filing in behind us. I got a sort of chill as another layer of excitement was added to atmosphere. It was starting to get loud, and I started to feel the buzz that Monica had described. 

I actually never would have gone to one of these things on my own. A comic convention, I mean. But I decided to go to Wizard Con in St. Louis because A: Any excuse to be with Monica, and B: I was actually interested in seeing the celebrities, maybe attending a talk or two. Monica was here for her favorite person in the world, Matt Smith, the Eleventh Doctor of the long running cult classic, Doctor Who. I had only watched a few episodes, and honestly, I don’t get the hype. 

Please don’t sonic me or drop me off in front of a group of Weeping Angels though.

Monica turned to me after procuring our tickets and squealed.

“We’re in!” 

“Great!” I replied, grinning at her. The excitement really was starting to get to me now. I think Monica’s excitement level was through the roof though, because she couldn’t stop beaming. 

To kill time, Monica and I tooled around. I got some pages in my sketchbook autographed with pictures from some artists, and Monica played photographer, snapping photos of anyone with an amazing costume from a show she recognized. It was awesome to see her get so excited over and over again, and for the cosplayers to be totally cool about it. Finally though, it was time for her photo op with Matt Smith. As she stepped into line, she said,

“Will you stand in line with me?”

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m not gonna be in the shot, and besides-

“Oh come on! Your talks aren’t until later, and you’ll make it to one of those lines anyways, so you might as well practice patience with me.” Monica grabbed my arm and pulled me next to her just as the line shifted forward. Rubbing my sweater sleeve where Monica had grabbed me, I busied my imagination by observing the tons of other cosplayers in this line. 

Tons of Doctors, some Marvel fans, a Rapunzel with short hair, and even a few My Little Pony characters were in the line, behind and in front of us. Monica, bored of waiting, told me to save her spot as she went to go take pictures of people in the line. I held her stuff and watched the sheer perfection of her joy bubble down the line as cosplayers posed for her camera. When she came back, I asked, 

“Can I look?” 

“Yeah, sure.” She replied, tapping the photos icon on her phone and scrolling through so I could see the photos. I smiled at all of them.

“These are very good!”

“Thanks! I’m really proud of them!” She replied, flipping her hair again and facing the line. It had shortened a little, thankfully, to about fifty people ahead of us. As we kept waiting, I asked,

“Ever think about going into photography?”

“You know, maybe,” Monica said, turning to look at me. “I know someone who’s in photography. I wonder if she’d let me intern at her studio.”

“That’d certainly be cool.”

“Yeah…” She mused to herself, falling silent for a moment before saying,“So what about you?”

“Pardon?” I asked, surprised that we were still talking. I had honestly expected awkward silence, like I experienced with most girls. Then again, I reminded myself that Monica wasn’t most girls. She was my best friend. I really needed to get over this crush business.

“Well, what do you want to do in life?” She said, bringing me back to the topic at hand.

“Well, I’m not sure....” I was saved from answering thankfully, because there were now three people in front of us, and Monica was distracted trying to catch a glimpse of the amazing Matt Smith. 

“Where is he? I can’t see him!” She whispered, and for a minute she looked worried.

“Maybe he just went to take a break. He’ll be back.” I whispered back, trying to reassure her. The couple in front of us turned around and said,

“No, there he is, see?” They pointed him out, and I think Monica just about had a heart attack. Her fist went to her mouth, and a high-pitched whine came from her throat as she tried not to squeal out loud. I tried to stifle my laughter, but I must not have done a very good job, because I got smacked in the arm. The couple in front of us went, and my heart started to pound with anxiety, because I could see Matt Smith too.

I know that Monica’s heart started to pound as hard as mine, but only because she started to squeeze my arm. 

“Monica,” I whispered. “Monica, ouch.”

“Sorry,” She whispered, loosening her grip. The couple in front of us stepped forward, and we suddenly had a clear view of Matt Smith. I think I can speak for both Monica and myself when I say that we were both barely breathing, and I’m also pretty sure the people behind us could hear our heartbeats. And needless to say, Matt Smith looked amazing in person.

This is Monica’s description of him, her having only seen him on Doctor Who; His smile is full of warmth and kindness, and that smile spreads up to his eyes, which makes sense, because his eyes are the color of a forest with the light of the afternoon sun shining through the branches. And he looks great, no matter how his hair is styled, because even though his hair will never beat David Tennant’s, it will still be flippin fantastic, literally. That, and he has a killer sense of style, because that’s just how awesome he is. But anyways, I’m fangirling. (Monica, not me. Nevermind, I’m starting to fanboy, because it’s totally true. After all, I was standing right in front of him.)

So it’s our turn in line, and Monica lets go of my arm and jogs to Matt Smith, who’s smiling at her. She’s grinning like crazy, and obviously trying not to giggle like a mad woman. 

“Hello,” She says, but her voice sounds far away and small, like that was all her vocal cords could emit without breaking the perfection of the moment. He says hello back, and his voice, oh my gosh his voice is so British! I mean, duh, he’s from Britain, but if Matt Smith’s voice could be a very British tea, it would have been the tea that was dumped into the Boston Harbor, and gosh, if I had said that out loud, would it have been offensive?

Anyways, that long rambling thought lasted maybe a second (or maybe a minute) in my brain, but it felt like longer. In fact, Monica and Matt were just about to pose when I said weakly,

“Wait! Wait, I want to be in the picture!”

“Okay! Come on!” Monica said, beaming at me.

“Yes, yes, can’t forget the boyfriend.” Matt said, and I’m pretty sure I was blushing. (Weird right? But he was so cool!) Anyways, we got our picture snapped, and maybe stood there for only five seconds, but dear God it felt like an eternity, and it was a good one. As we walked out of the booth, I couldn’t believe I was still walking. Monica was practically shaking, so she was leaning on me for support.

“Oh my gosh I love him! He’s so nice! And so amazing! And oh my gosh I think I’m crying!” I looked over at Monica, and she was right. There were tears in her eyes, and one had rolled down her cheek, but I knew she was okay because I knew they were tears of pure joy. Monica wiped them away and said,

“Your seminar is in a couple of minutes. If you wanna go get in line so you can get in, you better hurry. I’ll get the pictures.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you? I can skip this one.” I replied, looking at her concernedly. I felt like a bad friend for leaving her. But she nodded at me, and replied,

“Yeah, I got this. I’ll get two, so you can have one, and while I wait for them to print them, I’ll browse. And I’ll meet you right here, at the photo table.” Monica smiled to reassure me that she would be fine, but when I turned away and delved into the crowd, I realized I wasn’t worried about her - I was worried about me. 

You see, I have really bad directional skills. And Monica is really good at directions. So when I left Monica and delved into the crowd full of cosplayers and excited geeks, I got really confused and a little overwhelmed. And unfortunately, I was so confused about the map, I asked a helper to direct me, which I normally would never do. And then by the time I actually got to where the seminar was supposed to be, I was too late. The doors were closed. I gave a frustrated groan and pulled out my phone to call Monica. She picked up by the third ring, and yelled in my ear,

“Hello?”

“Jeez Monica! Tone down!”

“Sorry, little loud in here. What’s up? Seminar over?”

“No, actually. Got there too late. Meet you at the food court?”

“Yeah, sure. If you get there before me, no biggie though. I’ll be there.” We hung up, and I laughed to myself. Yeah right. Like I’d be there first.

But I was. Which was odd. But like Monica said, it was no biggie. So I got in line, ordered some food to share, and waited at a table. Finally, I saw Monica emerge from the crowd, and I waved a fry at her. 

“Hey!” She said smiling at me and sitting down. “I got the pictures.”

“Great!” I asked, scooting the fries toward her. We ate for a couple minutes in silence before I asked,

“So what were you doing when I called you.”

“Oh, I was in ‘Sci-Fi Speed Dating.’” Monica replied. I looked at her in shock. 

“Wait, what?” I asked, trying really hard not to outwardly freak out. Luckily, Monica was too busy trying to wipe ketchup off her jacket to notice.

“Well yeah. I thought it would be fun.” My heart started to race again, but in the bad, sinking feeling way. Cause even though Monica wasn’t my girlfriend, that didn’t mean I wanted her with someone else. But also as her friend, shouldn’t I be happy for her? Shouldn’t I support her decisions, even if her choice wasn’t me? My face must’ve been a contortion of emotions, because Monica asked,

“Oliver, is everything okay?” Snapping out of my reverie, I tried to be cool about it. Except I failed.

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine. Speed dating, cool.” Monica studied me as if I had turned into a lizard man. 

“It’s obviously not fine,” She replied with tense concern. “So what’s up?” When I hesitated for a bit, Monica gave me a little confidence by saying, “We’ve been friends for forever. You can tell me as long as you’re nice about it. So spit it out.” And spit it out I did. I actually blurted it in a big soggy mess of awkward words.

“I didn’t like the thought of you speed dating.” Monica shrugged and picked at the fries.

“Why not? After all, I’m  _ single, _ and in  _ Comic Con.  _ So why not speed date and have a little fun?” I felt my face grow red, but I sat there in frustrated silence, wondering what I should do. Finally, I gathered up all my courage and determination, and again, spit it out.

“Because I like you.”

“Yeah ri-” Monica started to laugh before looking up and seeing how serious I was. I felt myself grow hot red, from my pale cheeks to the tips of my ears, and suddenly I wanted to be anywhere else but here. 

“Oooooh, Oliver, I am so sorry-”

“No,” I said, interrupting her, crumpling up my napkin. “It’s fine. It’s fine.” I stood up, and started to walk away. 

“Where are you going?” She called after me.

“I just need to think.” I called back, feeling even warmer. 

I walked through all the merchandise to the other end of the room, where there were some nerds hanging out, away from the crowds, or resting their feet. I positioned myself on the stairs and put my head in my hands. I had  _ told Monica I liked her. _ And what’s worse,  _ I’d made a scene. _ A scene! God, I felt like such an idiot! 

I sat there for a couple moments, awash in self pity, when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned to see beautiful Monica, standing behind me, and looking sheepish.

“Hey.” She said softly.

“Hey.” I said gruffly, feeling about as awkward as she must have. But Monica would rather break the ice. She took a deep breath and said in a calm, normal voice,

“I’d like you to come and try something with me, if you wouldn’t mind.” I nodded and shrugged, trying to be reasonable.

“Sure.” I was led through the crowd, trying not to get swept away, when suddenly, Monica stopped in front of me. She had led me to an auditorium, where a bunch of guys and girls were chatting at tables for two. 

“Speed dating?” I laughed incredulously. Monica turned and smiled at me, motioning to a table. 

“I asked a favor of one of the announcers.” She said. I chuckled and shook my head. Looking back up at Monica, I shook my head again. ‘I must be out of my mind.’ I thought. But I pulled out a chair for Monica, as if we were really out on a date, and she sat down. I sat down across from her, and we looked at each other for a moment. 

“Awkward.” I said to relieve tension, and Monica laughed.

“Yeah, just a tiny bit. But this is the only way I could think of talking to you about this. Okay?” I nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay then,” She nodded, leaning back in her chair. She was smiling to herself thoughtfully, twirling a piece of her hair. Suddenly she asked,

“So how long have you liked me as more than a friend?”

“Whoa, specific!” I exclaimed, laughing nervously.

“Come on Oliver! Full disclosure!” She laughed, whacking my arm across the table.

“Alright, alright.” I sighed, though I was still smiling. “Since maybe freshman year. Or at least halfway through it. Actually,” I said, my voice getting quieter as I leaned forwards. Monica leaned forwards eagerly, as if we were talking about a subject that she loved, instead of about me loving her.

“I remember the exact day I fell in love with you.”

“No way.”

“You’re right, I’m bluffing. But I know how.”

“Okay, well then spill!” She said excitedly, fidgeting adorably in her seat. I laughed and replied,

“Okay, okay. Well, it started with the trading of Pokemon cards and some superhero stickers with my friends. We were at the geek table, you know, and I didn’t know we were going to the same school at the time. Cause you know, how was I supposed to know? Well, you know, that anti-geek bully shows up, cause there always has to be one of those, right? And he starts antagonizing us, and then all of the sudden, you walk up behind him, bold as brass, tap his shoulder, and punched him in the face. He went down in one fell swoop, and you smiled smugly at me and my friends. And you know what you said before the teachers rushed over and gave you detention?”

“I probably do, but refresh my memory.” Monica teased, leaning her head on her hand as she did.

“You said, ‘That’s what I should have done to Jennifer Spilluchi when she tore up my Doctor Who drawing and called me a nerd.’” Monica laughed.

“That’s right, I do remember that. I also remember inviting you to my house after my detention, and then you saw my collection of other Doctor Who related things.”

“Yeah, including more drawings! Apparently you were drawing Tennant though?”

“Uh-huh, and I remember Spilluchi saying snottily that it was  _ so weird _ to be drawing an attractive man thirty years older than me. I just sat there in a stupor, not knowing how to react. I felt a little alone actually.” 

“Well, I know we felt like the defenseless townspeople of Gotham or Metropolis until you stepped in.” I said, smiling up at her. Monica was beaming back. She replied,

“Thanks.” Suddenly, she yawned, and said, “Jeez, I’m tired. Sorry. So continue about me being your Batgirl.” I looked at her quizzically.

“First of all, I said nothing of the sort. Second of all, is it getting kind of loud in here?”

“Yeah, you know, let’s go. We’re not doing much else.”  Monica stood up, and I followed. As we walked out of the room, Monica started holding my hand, and I felt myself go numb, because holy cow. It’s a big deal when someone you like starts holding your hand. And did this mean that Monica maybe liked me back? Continuing our topic, she said,

“Yeah, yeah, you said, ‘defenseless townspeople of Gotham’, which would make me Batman, except  I’m a girl, so that would then make me Batgirl.” 

“Well….yeah, okay, Batgirl.” I said, nodding my head. 

“ _ Your _ Batgirl.” She corrected me. I looked at her confusedly.

“My….Batgirl?” 

“Well, yeah. I saved your geeky life from a bully. We’ve been friends for about four years now. And, well….” She trailed off, hoping I’d take a hint. When I didn’t get it, she said, “I would be interested in being a couple now.” 

“Wait, really?” I said surprisedly. I didn’t really mean to sound surprised, but I just was. I almost couldn’t believe that Monica wanted to date me, especially so soon after my confession. But, at the same time,  _ Monica wanted to date  _ **_me_ ** _.  _

“Well okay then. Right.” I said, recovering. “My Batgirl.” I said, getting used to the thought of it.

“Mm-hmm.” Monica said, smiling at me and swinging my arm as we exited the convention building. 

And she’s been my Batgirl ever since.


End file.
